


How to Break a Demon

by lucifxcker



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Collars, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Hand Jobs, Mammon is a good boy when he wants to be, Mammon's safeword is Goldie because why tf not, Masochist Mammon, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Stripping, stripper!Mammon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifxcker/pseuds/lucifxcker
Summary: When you find Mammon stripping at a local club, it's only in your best interest to request a private room. Up to his usual tsundere shenanigans, you decide to take him home and break him.
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 192





	How to Break a Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the chaos gremlins in the "A Gaggle of Mammorons" server. Special thanks to simeonsaysobeyme for the cheerleading necessary to get this out in the world.

A strip club was not exactly the place you’d expected to find one of your demons.

Especially _not_ on the stage.

In the six weeks since you’ve been gone from the Devildom, a schedule of phone calls has made missing the chaotic group a bit easier to muster. Never, in all those conversations, did Mammon mention he had taken up stripping. 

If your jaw could manage to close itself, you might ask the Avatar of Greed just what he was doing in tight black shorts that did nothing to hide anything. He wouldn’t hear you over the thumping bass and the cheers from the crowd gathered at the foot of the stage, of course. Based on the bills scattered on the stage floor, he was very popular. Of _course_ , he’s popular; he doesn’t routinely model in the Devildom based solely on his personality. 

You break away from your friends and the sight of Mammon rolling his hips to beeline for the bar. Catching the eye of the bartender, you wave nervously. 

“Can I get a private room with him?” you ask, pointing towards Mammon.

He pokes at a tablet for a second before nodding. “He’s free right after his dance. It’ll be 350 upfront.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the cost, but you figure the look on Mammon’s face will be worth it. One swipe of your credit card later (fingers crossed that it wouldn’t decline), thirty minutes of alone time with the Avatar of Greed is secured. 

You’re led into a softly lit bedroom draped in gauzy curtains. An ice bucket holding champagne sparkles under the glow of the chandelier. You help yourself to the wine, remembering that you’re the one bankrolling this whole event. All that is left for you to do is wait for your first guy to wander in. You take a seat on the edge of the bed and sip your champagne. 

Two glasses later, your patience is rewarded when Mammon saunters into the room, a sly smile gracing his lips.

“Well hello, gorge—“ He abruptly cuts off at the sight of you on the bed. “What’re you doing here?!”

“Hi, Mammon,” you say, leaning back with one hand to look at him fully. Thick leather straps cross over his chest, bringing the top of his demon form to mind. The smallest pair of black leather shorts you’ve ever seen cling to the toned muscles of his legs. The crowning glory of his ensemble is a thick collar decorated with delicate chains and dangling rings. 

Mammon seems to notice your slow perusal of his body as a blush rises to his face. He’s incredibly shy for a being that was just upside down on a metal pole. You set down the glass in your hand to crook a finger at the startled demon. He shuts the door behind him before inching closer to you. As soon as Mammon’s in reach, you snag the front ring on his collar to bring him down to your level. 

“I think, darling, I should be asking _you_ what you’re doing here.” 

His eyes widen, pupils visibly dilating at the pressure at his neck and the low drawl of your voice. “I need to pay off Goldie before Luci—“ 

You pull harder until his lips are centimeters from yours.

“Mammon,” you whisper. “You know I live in this city. Of all the strip clubs in the world, you pick the one down the street from me? Try again.” 

“Coincidence. Like I bother remembering every fact about every human I meet,” he blusters. The red in his cheeks has spread to the tips of his ears. You know demon strength means he could be out of your grasp at any second. Warmth blooms across your body as you realize he _wants_ to be under your thumb. 

Stretching up, as if for a kiss, you bite down firmly on his plump bottom lip. The whine Mammon lets out hits harder than the champagne. You let go of the collar to push at his chest.

“I paid for a dance, so dance.”

Mammon clicks a remote that activates speakers hidden within the wall. A seductive beat slithers around you. The swagger you had earlier from taking control over Mammon fades as you watch him begin to sway. His movements are enthralling–tan hands tug on the straps across his chest as he undulates. Your fingers itch to pull at them yourself. Mammon turns, giving you a view of the sculpted lines of his back. You let your eyes trail down to leather-clad curves. 

Still lost in the sight of his shorts, you don’t even jump when Mammon is suddenly in your lap. Grinding down on you, he takes your hands to place them on his chest. Your fingers curl into the unforgiving leather. A sly smile pulls at his mouth at the heat on your cheeks. You are _not_ the one in charge anymore, not when he can reduce you to a shuddering mess with a swing of his hips. Tugging at the collar, you try to pull him down for a kiss.

“Ah uh,” Mammon scolds, moving out of your reach. “Not here.” 

A frustrated whine leaves your lips. “Then take me out of here.” 

“You still have fifteen minutes left and I have the rest of the night on shift.” Mammon turns around to sit down, grinding on your lap as he runs his hands down his chest. You reach up to grab a handful of pale hair. His movements stutter and he sinks more fully onto you. 

“Mammon,” you sing-song, your hand tugging harder on his hair. “Do you want to stay here or leave with me?” 

The demon hops up from your lap. “Stay right here.” 

It seems he’s made the right choice when he ducks out of the room, only to return in a coat. 

“Let’s go,” says Mammon, as he pulls you off the bed and back into the club. 

You wave vaguely in the direction of your friends. Heads pop up from the group, startled at your departure, and your company. It would take too much time to stop and explain, so you let Mammon tug out of the club.

The Avatar of Greed looks obscene standing in your dingy studio apartment. From the cut of his coat to the fit of his jeans, everything about him exudes a sense of effortless indulgence. He shucks off his outer layers before wrapping his arms around you. Under the long coat, the leather straps and thick collar that tortured you earlier still sit. 

Mammon notices the appreciative look in your eye and blushes. “I didn’t want to waste time taking them off. Plus, you seemed to like it.” 

_Like_ is perhaps too weak a word to describe how you feel about the crossing belts. You push him by the shoulders onto your bed and climb on top of him. His hips buck up against yours as you crawl up to reach his lips. You stop upon seeing the desperation on his face. Why should you let him have an easy time of it when he was so quick to deny you earlier? 

You position your knees to trap his arms against his body. Mammon huffs at the loss of movement, but keens when you lean down to lave your tongue against an exposed nipple. Following the tender touch with a bite, you let yourself enjoy the way he squirms underneath you. 

A sharp tug on the ring of his collar stops his movement. “Don’t get too bold now. I’m still pissed off at you for not kissing me earlier.” 

You’re quick to strip off the top half of your outfit as Mammon stares up at you. His eyes look a bit dazed as they roam your bare skin. The stupified sight of him under you is a view you could get used to. For all his bluster and posturing, he submits easily to you. 

“You are going to behave,” you huff, maneuvering his hands up towards the cuffs attached at the headboard. Mammon’s eyes widen as you lock him into place. His demon strength means he could easily break the metal chain holding him in place, but you need to take a couple of precautions. 

“Safeword?” you ask. 

“Goldie,” Mammon replies. 

It’s an adorable answer, and you give him a brief smile. He takes the opportunity to push his growing erection into you from his position. Your eyes narrow at him. “Now what did I say about behaving?” 

Mammon’s face pales in the dim light as you get up. You undo the buttons of his shorts before pulling them down his legs and off completely. The sharp look on your face keeps him from moving while you lean over to lock his ankles in cuffs on the footboard. 

He pants as you walk around to examine him like art. Mammon _does_ make a pretty picture stretched out on your bed. His tanned skin betrays a slight sheen, either from the force of your heater or the lack of touch. 

“Come on,” he whines, tugging his wrists from where they’re pinned above his head. “Don’t be mean to me.”

You crawl on to the bed to position your mouth just above the thick length of him. “But you like when I’m mean,” you say before taking his cock fully in your mouth.

Mammon chokes out a broken gasp. His hips buck up, but you dig your nails into his skin as a warning. He’ll get what he gets on your schedule and not a moment sooner. He keens as you hollow your cheeks and push the flat of your tongue firmly against the underside. From the twisting of his body in the restraints to the unrestrained moans falling from his lips, you know he doesn’t have very long. 

When he starts to stutter your name in earnest, you pull off completely. 

“No, please just—“ begs the frustrated demon underneath you. It’s not nearly enough for your liking.

“I thought you were going to be good for me?” you ask, leaning up to rake your fingers through his sweaty hair. Mammon closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “Don’t you want to be good?”

“Y–yes.” 

You jump up from the bed and grace him with a smile. The dazed look on his face increases tenfold as he watches you rummage in the trunk at the foot of the bed. You make your selections carefully. It’s all fine and well to break Mammon, but _how_ you want to do that is something you’ve thought about for a while. Pulling a handful of things from the trunk, you look over at the demon on your bed.

“You are _not allowed_ to orgasm unless I say so. Understood?” The wording enforces your order with the magic of the pact, just as you anticipated. Mammon shudders under the order and your words, but nods. 

You uncuff his ankles before resuming your place between his legs. His blue eyes seem to glow with excitement in the dim light, but you hold up the golden plug in your hand anyway for confirmation. A row of white teeth bite into his bottom lip and he nods. 

His thighs part at your touch, knees falling further back than you expected. Your lips find the head of his dick as you reach for the bottle in your lap. Barely conscious of your tongue swirling around him, you let some of the slick lube coat your fingers. Mammon jumps a bit at the cold when you lightly circle his entrance. He relaxes into the touch as you continue to work your mouth over him. Your jaw may suffer for it in the morning, but it’s worth it to make this as easy as possible on him. 

When he begins to cant his hips down towards you, you let a finger slip in just a bit. Mammon moans at the intrusion and tries to scoot even further down the bed. Pulling his cock all the way to the back of your throat, you swallow around him to halt his movements. 

One finger becomes two and Mammon is writhing on the bed. You work in and out of him, careful despite his obvious enjoyment. When he bites out your name, you add a third finger and watch his eyes roll into the back of his head. He’s not begging just yet, but it’s only a matter of time. 

Mammon whines when you slip out of him, only to push off the bed after the lubricated plug replaces your fingers. The reminder of his strength only excites you more; one of the most powerful demons in Hell and he’s reduced to flailing helplessly on your bed. 

You sit back to watch him adjust. Mammon’s desperate pants and the clink of chains against the metal of your headboard fill the air. You’re tempted to put the image of him desperate and needy into some kind of art, but any photo or drawing wouldn’t match up to the glorious look of him. 

“Please, you gotta do something. Don’t just sit there!” 

“I could sit here all night and there’s nothing you can do about it,” you say, slick fingers trailing up the length of his cock. He bucks into your hand before you pull back. 

That is going to require some kind of penalty. 

You move quickly, not giving Mammon a chance to see what you were doing. Before he can stutter out a complaint, you slip a ring over the head of his still slippery cock and push it towards the base. A push of a button sets the ring vibrating and his back arching. You sit back to watch him struggle and writhe on the bed. Blue eyes peer down at you, hazy with desire. 

“Please,” Mammon forces out around a moan. A flicker of power lashes out across the bed, bringing forth his demon form. When you turn up the setting of the ring, his batlike wings stretch out in a shudder. 

Slipping off the bed, you walk the perimeter to watch for the moment he breaks. You let your fingers caress his hair from his flushed face. He leans into your hand, desperate for a bit of touch. A tug on a horn brings tears to his eyes. Mammon resumes begging, pleading for you to give him _something_. 

When the tears spill over and race towards his chin, you decide to give in. The ring stays in place, but his hands are released from their cuffs. In an instant, he’s all over you: mouth at your neck, hands pulling in your hair. You pull his face towards yours and taste the salt of his tears on his lips. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles into the kiss as you divest yourself of the rest of your clothing. Mammon flips you under him to straddle your hips. 

A hand clutching one of his horns keeps his eyes on you as you slowly remove the tortuous ring. He shudders at the loss, before resuming his begging when your hand replaces it. 

“Have I tormented you enough?” you ask. Mammon lets out a pathetic mewl in response. 

You wait, letting him rock into the slow pace of your hand on his cock. When his eyes drift shut and his thighs clench down tightly on the outside of yours, you know he’s had about all he can take. 

“Go ahead, love,” you say, releasing him from your earlier command. 

You pick up the speed with which you move your hand and watch as his back arches. With an unintelligible shout, Mammon spills cum all over your stomach and chest. He drops onto you, heedless of the mess he’s made as he shakes in your embrace. You let the tremors work their way through his body. Light kisses dot his shoulder, careful not to poke out your eye on his horns. 

When the wave of pleasure abates, Mammon is near catatonic on top of you. It takes some doing to roll him onto his back and he whimpers once the plug is gently pulled out of him. You’re careful to keep your touches soft as you grab a wet cloth to clean you both up. Seeing him in such a state has worked you up beyond belief, but your own need can wait. 

“Come here,” mumbles the exhausted demon, putting his wings and horns away. He’s so sweet when he’s half-asleep and not annoying you with words. 

You climb back into bed and let him wrap his arms around you. Mammon’s face nuzzles into your neck, planting gentle kisses where he can reach. 

“Worth ditching your job for?” you tease. 

“Shut up, human.” 

Your soft laugh is the last thing he hears before falling asleep. 


End file.
